Time Travel
by Gremblin
Summary: Syndrome gets sent back in time to when he was ten years old. What happens when he meets up with his tenyearold self, and finds the incredibles before they were? No Longer Updating
1. How the hell did this happen?

Syndrome scrambled to hold onto something – anything. He didn't want to die, especially like this. Chopped up into little bits by his own jet turbine? Not something anyone wanted to happen to them.

He looked down as his cape caught in the blades, panic spread across his face, here it was, the end of Syndrome. Then an idea came to him. It probably wouldn't work, but it was better than doing nothing. At least he would go down fighting.

He pointed his finger at the blades as he was pulled towards it, activating the zero-point energy. Closing his eyes, he expected to be shredded into mincemeat, but it never came. Opening his eyes, he found he was suspended in mid-air, having been caught in the energy beam.

**BOOM!**

Syndrome was knocked unconscious by the blast of his manta-jet exploding.

Upon waking up, he couldn't believe his eyes. He was on the street he had lived on when he was ten years old. But how had that happened? That was miles away from where the Incredibles lived. Oh well, at least he was alive.

Sitting up, he rubbed his head. He had a killer headache and would give anything for a Tylenol. He noticed his hair wasn't up anymore; instead it was hanging down around his head. Syndrome figured this was actually better because it would hide his face. As it was, he needed a change of clothes. The last thing he wanted was someone recognizing him.

He walked down the oh-so-familiar street, towards where he knew there was a Wal-Mart. It was where he had got the things to make the IncrediBoy costume so many years ago.

He was getting a lot of weird stares, but he was all too used to that. He used to get all kinds of stares in school. So he simply continued walking, entering Wal-Mart and heading towards the men's section. He grabbed the first pair of dark pants he found that fit, and grabbed a long black overcoat. Knowing they would fit, he took them to the checkout, not feeling like trying to steal them. He was too tired, and his head still hurt from his headache.

He looked up at the cashier, who was smiling happily at him. "That would be $35.59 sir!" Syndrome pulled a fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket, knowing that his credit cards would be cancelled…damn government. He knew the neighborhood, that at least was in his favor. He knew every place there was to hide in.

Taking the bag with his new clothes in them, he went to the Dairy Queen next door, heading to the bathroom. Smiling when he found it was empty, he quickly went into the middle stall. They were always the cleanest.

Quickly pulling the pants on over the pants of his costume, He left when someone else came in. Pulling on the jacket, he found he got less stares with it covering the giant 'S' on his shirt. Idiots didn't know fashion when they saw it. He remembered his mask, but decided to leave it on. He didn't want to make it too easy for the cops.

Syndrome walked up to the counter and ordered an Oreo Blizzard, sitting down facing the window. He wanted to be able to see if anyone was coming in. Then at least he would be able to give these nobodies a show they'd remember. He smiled as he thought of the headlines:

'_Syndrome Returns to hometown; gives the bums something to remember'_

'_Syndrome Returns and gets Revenge on Childhood Bullies'_

Then there'd be some awful picture that made him look evil, when all he was really doing was pointing out something.

A couple of kids came in, laughing. One in particular caught Syndrome's eye. It was a kid that looks surprisingly like he did when he was ten. The other's looked like kids he used to hang around. But that couldn't be possible, it was downright impossible. Heck with unlikely.

Looking at his watch, it said that it was the day it was supposed to be, the day that he was supposed to have saved the city. But now he started to wonder. When he had been building his gloves, there had been some abnormalities that he had to overcome. What if one of those abnormalities had been the space-time continuum? It was possible.

He watched as the kids walked up to the counter and listened to them. The kid had his voice, slightly higher, but his voice hadn't deepened till he was almost twelve. The kid ordered an Oreo blizzard, just as Syndrome had. He had been a fan his whole life.

They sat near him, within hearing distance. Deciding that he had nothing better to do, he slowed down on his Blizzard. He wanted to know who this kid was, if not a younger version of himself. He also needed to think of what he was going to do. He knew where Mr. Incredible had lived, had been keeping track of his previous houses.

He laughed. He hadn't been able to find Incredibles current house, but he had found the previous houses easy as pie. How much sense did that not make?

Looking back at the table, he remembered what day this was. It was the day after Mr. Incredible had turned him down, told him that he couldn't be his sidekick. He quickly decided on a plan of action.

Finishing his blizzard, he threw the garbage in the garbage can and went out the door, heading to a place he had gone so many times before.

Buddy's friend, who was sitting across from him, nodded to the guy who had just left.

"He kinda looks like you, only older and angrier." Mitch said.

"Yeah, wanna follow him?" the person beside him, John, asked. He had finished a while ago.

"Not really." Buddy answered them.

"Awww, come on! Who knows, maybe you'll meet up with Mr. Incredible!" John laughed, nudging Buddy in his side playfully.

"Shut up John, you know what I think about Mr. Incredible." Buddy said, glaring at John for bringing the Super up.

"Let's follow him anyways, he kept looking at us as if he knew us. I wanna know who he is. Plus, we have nothing else to do, it's summer!" Mitch suggested, finishing his cone.

"Fine… But we can't get too close; we don't want him noticing us." Buddy sighed, standing up. He was almost done his blizzard anyways.

Syndrome shoved his hands into his pockets, fuming over what had happened. How could Mirage have betrayed him? Why? If it had been because of what had happened in the containment unit, he had apologized twice, once in the hallway and once in the security room.

Looking at the street signs, Syndrome turned down Caldwell street. He knew this street like the back of his hand. Three doors down was a nice old lady that gave anyone who came up to her door cookies. the house on the left had three generations of a family living in it. Five doors down on the right was Incredibles house. It had been under a false name, Robert Smith. Syndrome knew it was his false name, to keep anyone following him off his tracks.

Looking back, he saw a couple kids jump and hide. Smiling, he knew instinctively who it was. He had been dragged into following many people by his childhood friends. It had been one of their favorite passtimes. He himself had always tried to talk them out of it, but they had always been able to talk him into it. He still wondered why they had liked it so much.

Stopping, he looked at the house, 10 Caldwell street. Syndrome quickly erased his memories of all the times he had gotten into trouble at his friends hands, to look at the house. He needed to think of a plan, preferably quickly. He cursed Rick Dicker, taking his island paradise away from him, where he would have had a plan within three minutes with his computers.

A car pulled into the drive, with a man in it. Syndrome figured it was Mr. Incredible. The government had told all Supers to lay low for a while, so they could figure out what to do. Smiling, a plan started forming in his mind. Mr. Incredible couldn't be Mr. Incredible out of uniform, it would blow his cover. The was the perfect chance, to finally get his revenge, before Mr. Incredible even ruined his life.

Walking up to Mr. Incredible, Syndrome wondered what he would say. "Hi, I'm new around here and don't have a clue as to where I am." He said, saying the first thing that came to his mind. It wasn't that bad an idea either. Sometimes he surprised even himself.

"Oh, Hi. I didn't know anyone knew had moved in. My name's Bob Smith, and this is Helen." Bob said, motioning to the lady coming out of the passenger side door.

"Hi! I guess I'm not the only new person around here." Helen said, smiling nicely.

"Guess not, I thought I was the newest, guess I was beaten to the punch. I'm Buddy." He said, shaking Helens outstreached hand, then kissing her knuckles. He wondered how far Incredible would let him go. Apparently he didn't mind too much, because he was just smiling. Maybe he had some friends who flirted with his wife.

"Guess not." Helen said, smiling. "So where do you live?"

"Umm..." How was he going to get himself out of this one? He could simply say his old house, but then that kid would most probably hear. Play dumb! yes, that usually worked. "I, uh... don't really know the number. Only the vague place. That sounds kinda stupid huh?" Syndrome said, smiling and rubbing his head while wondering if he had ever sounded cheezier.

"No, not at all. Come on in, maybe we can help. These houses do all look alike at first" Bob said, smiling. When Syndrome said no, he didn't want to impose, Bob shook his head in return. "I insist! I love meeting the neighbors. I still don't know everyone around here and i've lived here for a few years.

Buddy hid behind a lamppost, watching the man who Mitch and John said looked like him. Who was he? The guy wasn't him, Buddy was right there. It was impossible to be in two places at once, wasn't it? The man followed the people into the house, but was obviously reluctant to do so.

When the people were inside the house, Buddy, Mitch, and John all came out of their hiding places to try and figure out who theses people were.

"Now I'm sure of it. Buddy, maybe he's an identical twin from another planet." Mitch said, going straight to the sci-fi he loved so much.

"No, there's no such thing as aliens stupid, everyone knows that. Maybe he's a clone, and the scientists increased the ageing process so that they could do experiments on him, but he's escaped and is trying to find Buddy so that he'd be the only Buddy Pine there is." John said, smiling.

"You're both wrong. He's not an alien, and he's not a clone. He's not even like me, he's too old. He doesn't even look like me, I'm not that ugly." Buddy said, arms crossed stubbornly.

"You wanna wait for him to come back out? Then we could ask him who he is." John suggested.

"I gotta get home soon." Mitch said, checking his watch.

"Yeah, I wanna find out who he is." Buddy said, nodding in agreement.

An hour later Syndrome walked out of Mr. Incredible's house, smiling, waving good-bye and saying thanks for the help, even though he hadn't needed it. They didn't know that though.

Syndrome smiled. Incredible wasn't too bad when he wasn't trying to kill you. He was actually a really nice guy. Too bad he wasn't going to live to see next week if Syndrome had anything to do with it. He smiled as a plan came to his mind.

He looked up, because he had been looking down while he had been thinking of the plan that was formulating in his mind. He was standing face to face with a younger version of himself, and boy did he look ticked. His arms were crossed, and he had an angry look on his face.

"What's your problem, swallow a bug?" He said, the grin from before quickly disappearing. He had to be careful what he said, he didn't want to change his future.

"Who are you?" the kid asked. Two more kids came up behind him with similar looks on their faces. Syndrome instantly recognized them as John and Mitch.

"I'm someone you won't know for a long time." Syndrome said, ruffling the kids hair and walking around him, a small smile forcing it's way onto his face. He had hated it when people had done that to him as a kid, and now he knew why they had done it. It was just so fun!

"Hey! I'm not done talking to you! Get back here!" The kid shouted, running in front of Syndrome. Sighing, Syndrome grabbed the kid's shoulders, moving him bodily out of his way, but making sure not to hurt him.

"You may not be done with me, but I'm done with you." Syndrome said, continuing on. He wondered if he still sounded like that, so annoying. He'd have to ask someone when - if he got back to his own time.

"C'mon Buddy, let's just leave. He's too scared to talk to us." He heard Mitch say. Syndrome stopped. That guy had always gotten to him, now he that he was bigger than the kid, he could do something about it.

Syndrome turned around to look at them. They all had smug looks on their faces, as if they had won something or gotten out of homework.

"Shut up Mitch. John, you stay out of this, 'cause I know you wanna say something. Buddy, you're coming with me for a little while." Syndrome said, grabbing the kid's arm and leading him away. Mitch and John had done as they were told, being too awestruck that someone they didn't even know knew their names. Buddy wasn't putting up too much of a fight, also awestruck that a man who looked like him, and sounded like him knew his name.

"Who are you?" Buddy finally asked, pulling his arm out of Syndrome's grip. Syndrome sighed, and knelt down to look the kid in the face.

"It's a long story, most of which you can't hear. Here's the long and short of it, I'm you, only from fifteen years in the future. I know this sounds like something Mitch would say, but it's true. You can't tell anyone, because they'll think we're both crazy. If you don't believe me, ask me something only you would know. Don't take me to the word though, I won't remember every little detail. It has been fifteen years after all." Syndrome said, wishing that there was someone else he could turn to. He could tell the kid was trying to think of a question, something he would never forget, but only he knew.

"Here's a question, what's my dad's favorite saying?" Buddy asked, smiling. Syndrome laughed, that one was easy.

"Are you kidding? 'No man is an island, I named my island base for it." Syndrome said, smiling. Buddy was a little surprised, but not impressed.

"Lucky guess. Who's my favorite super?" Buddy asked, smiling. Syndrome knew this one easy too.

"Trick question, you don't have one anymore. If it was two day's ago, I would have said Mr. Incredible, but yesterday you tried to get him to let you become his sidekick, but he said no and sent you home." Syndrome said, trying to think if he had left any key facts out. As far as he could remember he hadn't.

"I didn't even tell mom and dad that!" Buddy said. If he hadn't believed Syndrome before, he sure did now.

"You believe me now?" Syndrome asked, smiling. Buddy nodded quickly.

"You - I - we, have an island base?" Buddy asked excitedly.

"Had, it was taken away from me." Syndrome said bitterly, practically spitting the words out.

"Why? what did you do?" Buddy asked, sounding a little scared now.

"Nothing big, tried to save a city but was stopped by Mr. Incredible. Then I tried to get his kid as payback and he stopped me again. That's when I ended up here." Syndrome said, wondering why he was telling the kid so much. If anything, he should know as little as possible. But it felt good to confide in someone, Mirage hadn't listened when he had talked to her about his life. But this kid was actually interested, was actually listening to what he had to say.

"We should do something! I have my rocket boots, I can help you!" Buddy's face lit up at the prospect of helping. Syndrome smiled, but shook his head.

"I can't let you endanger yourself, endanger me. I can handle Mr. Incredible myself, I have before." Syndrome said. "I can't tell you anything else, I've already probably told you too much as it is."

"But -"

"Go home. If you're home after five mom will ground you for a week." Syndrome said, smiling at Buddy's face. It was a mix of dissapointment and amazement. Sighing, Syndrome's memory was going back to what was now the night before, when all his hopes and dreams had been dashed in one swipe of Mr. Incredible's hand.

"If you want to help, it'll throw a real wrench in the works, but i'll find a way if you want." Syndrome said, not wanting the kid to hate his future self. That wouldn't be a very good thing. The kid's face lit up again. Looking over the kid's shoulder, Syndrome found that Mitch and John had left.

"What time is it?" Syndrome asked, looking automatically at his watch, only to remember that it was the wrong time.

"Umm... four-thirty. I should probably get going. How will I find you?" Buddy asked. It was a good question, but then he remembered something.

"You remember the lady next door? The one with the extra room for rent?" Syndrome asked, smiling. It took the kid a few minutes to clue in, but when he did, he matched Syndrome evil smile perfectly.


	2. Parents and friends

**Writer's Note:** Pitbullady, I know that Bob's last name was Parr at that time, but I needed it to be different, for reasons you will read in this chapter. That and I thought it would be a little something that only the owners of the DVD would get (watch the deleted scenes on the special features disk, the alternate opening, that will help explain). About me writing putting in more detail, I'm currently writing three Incredibles fanfics, so I'm trying to go as deep into them as possible, sorry!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Incredibles. Leave me alone.

Syndrome sat on the bed in the spare room of Ms. Robinson. He had always thought that she was a little weird, but now he knew it. She had let a complete stranger into her house, simply because he wanted to rent her spare room. She hadn't asked any questions about who he was, where he came from, or why he had arrived on her doorstep with the neighbors little boy.

He looked up as he saw he shuffle into the room, her glasses magnifying the size of her eyes to three times their actual size. She smiled at him then continued to go around the room, dusting the furniture. He paid no attention to her; this was her house after all. He had no right to tell her to get out, as much as he wanted to.

"Dinner's almost ready young man, if you want to come down and eat. It's so nice to have someone in this old house again. Ever since Earl died, it's been too empty for my liking." She said, looking at Syndrome happily. He realized that she was going to ask his name, and he started racking his mind of names he knew.

"What's your name? I didn't catch it when you came in." She asked, smiling sweetly.

"Umm… Dash. Dash Parr." He said, saying the first name that came to his mind. He thought it was funny it was the name of one of the people he was trying to wipe out of existence.

"That's a nice name. Well, I'll leave you alone. I'll call when dinner's ready." She smiled, leaving the room and going down the stairs. He couldn't believe that someone could smile so much, it was practically all she had done while in the room.

Syndrome went into his pocket, pulling out a picture of a young girl. It was a girl that he had adopted, but had never met. Mirage had made him do it, to make his company look good. He paid for her clothes, food, and house. But he had never gotten around to meeting her. She was sixteen years old, and possibly the luckiest girl on earth. She had sent him tons of letters, but only gotten a few in return. He felt guilty about it now; he should have probably gone and at least met her, now he'd never be able to. What was her name? Jessica Greene! That was it! She lived somewhere in Canada, where she was born.

A thought struck him, if she was sixteen, then she was alive right now, she'd be one! He could go and meet her, before she would even remember him! He threw that thought out of his mind quickly. He only had the money in his pocket, and he didn't want to run out. Then what would he do? Go and build things? No, that would be too conspicuous. Maybe fix things, make them better. That could work. And he wouldn't be drawing too much attention to himself. That was always a good thing.

He stood up and started down the stairs when Ms. Robinson called to him that dinner was done. He rolled his eyes, he didn't want to stay, and he had things to do. But he turned down the hallway and went into the kitchen to do what he was told. He might need to stay here for a while, and he didn't want to get kicked out.

Buddy sat at the dinner table, across from his mom, and beside his dad and older brother William. They ate quietly, not wanting to be the one to strike up the conversation. It was one of the reason's Buddy dreaded family dinners.

"Who was that man you were with earlier?" His dad asked, looking up from his spaghetti.

"No one, he's new around here and didn't have a place to stay. So I brought him up to Ms. Robertson's house, she had a spare room for rent." Buddy replied quickly. He had thought of saying that he was himself fifteen years in the future, but knew he'd be grounded for lying.

"That was nice of you. I'm glad to see you've given up on Mr. Incredible." His mom said, trying to keep the conversation going. Buddy didn't know what to say, so he just kept quiet and continued to eat his supper.

"Didn't you know? Because of dear little Incrediboy's actions, the supers are going to have to go into hiding." William sneered. Buddy glared at him, wishing he could do something. He started thinking of way's to get back at William, and the perfect plan came into his mind. He smiled, knowing that he might not be able to do anything now, but if he was fifteen years older…

"It isn't my fault and you know it." Buddy said happily, confusing his brother.

"If you hadn't of gone around following Mr. Incredible, none of this would have happened." William said, trying to beat his brother's good mood.

"It would have happened, you couldn't change what's supposed to happen." Buddy said. He had promised to keep the secret, but it could win him the argument.

"It wouldn't have happened, the supers would still be free to roam the cities!" William said, storming out of the room. Buddy wondered what he had done, but quickly shrugged it off. If Will wanted to be mad at him, fine and dandy with him. That was one less person he had to worry about finding out.

Finishing his spaghetti, he excused himself from the table and went up to his room to think. He was really tall in the future, and muscular. He wondered why, had he started to work out? How had he gone back in time? Had he gone through a time machine? All very good questions, he'd have to ask tomorrow.

Why wait though? Why not simply go now? Looking at the clock, he found it was past his curfew. Stupid curfew, he couldn't wait to be rid of it like William. That wouldn't happen for another few years though. Stupid parents, who needed them? He didn't. He could simply be literally raised by himself. That would be interesting.

"Why not? If I don't like them now, I've got to despise them fifteen years later." He said to himself, getting up and peering around the door. His parents were still in the kitchen, talking. William was most likely out with his friends, so why not? They wouldn't notice if he was gone for a little while, would they?

He grabbed his backpack from beside his door and emptied it of his old school things. He put in an extra set of underwear, pants, and a shirt. He put in what should have been his superhero outfit, had Mr. Incredible let him join him. Maybe in the future he knew how to sew better, you never knew. He threw in a few more odds and ends that meant something to him, along with the only Mr. Incredible doll he had kept just in case the stuff was actually worth something some day, and opened his window. He had his rocket boots on already; he wore them everywhere he could.

He blasted off into Ms. Robinson's front yard, landing in front of the door. He knocked lightly, hoping she wasn't asleep.

When there was a knock at the door, Ms. Robinson sighed, getting up shakily. Syndrome looked at her, hoping he never became like that. Not sure if it was the right thing to do, he told her to sit back down, he would get the door.

Walking down the hallway, as he had many times before in his childhood during the summer when Ms. Robinson would invite him in for cookies, he opened the door. Only to find himself.

"What are you doing here?" He asked quietly.

"Um, I live next door. Duh. Why don't you know why I'm here, we are the same person." The kid said, coming in and shutting the door. Syndrome wondered if he had actually been that rude when he was a kid. No wonder Incredible hadn't let him join up, he couldn't even stand himself!

"FYI, when I was your age I didn't meet myself." Syndrome said. "I'll be back in a minute Ms. Robinson!" He shouted. The last thing he needed was the old lady figuring things out on her own.

"Okay, don't take too long, you don't want your food to get cold!" She said back.

"You're eating her food?" The kid said, with his eyebrow raised.

"Yes. It's actually pretty good. She can cook more than just cookies believe it or not." Syndrome replied, leading him up to his room. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You shouldn't swear." The kid said, following. "But anyways, I don't want to live at home anymore. I can live with you! Please?" The kid begged. "I have all my important stuff, I can help you too!" Syndrome didn't know what to say. Letting the kid stay with him was probably a bad idea, but he could use some help. Syndrome didn't know what to say. It would be awesome raising him, but then what would it do to him? What would it do to his future; he had to think of those things. Well, he couldn't do much more without risking changing the time stream. Plus, if he remembered his parents, they wouldn't be too happy with him simply disappearing, though William probably wouldn't mind. He looked at the kid sympathetically, knowing exactly what he was going through.

"First things first, I'll swear all I want. Second, we probably shouldn't even be talking; us simply meeting screwed up the time stream. Third, if you haven't noticed, I'm a little short on cash and places to live." Syndrome said, pointing out the most obvious parts.

"What about that island you were talking about?" The kid pointed out. Syndrome tried to think of what Nomanisan was before he had bought it. It was something to do with the government if he remembered correctly. That didn't mean that was what it was in the first place…

"Where are you going?" Buddy asked, standing up as Syndrome went to leave.

"An old friend." Syndrome said, opening the door.

"Can I come? If he's your friend, then technically he's my friend too." Buddy said, going to follow Syndrome. Syndrome couldn't think of anything to counter this. The kid was right, which wasn't surprising.

"Fine. But don't make any noise, this guy's very jumpy." Syndrome said, not caring. This guy was, or would be very soon, an old friend. He was the only guy Syndrome trusted remotely with anything important, aside from Mirage. But she didn't count anymore seeing as she was currently nine or ten years old.

The kid smiled, running down the stairs. Ms. Robinson was standing at the door, talking with Buddy's parents. They smiled when they saw him, and Syndrome started to panic before he remembered that they weren't his parents anymore, they were the kids.

"Buddy, there you are! We were getting worried about you when we found out that you had run away. Who's this?" Mrs. Pine asked, looking at Syndrome.

"My name's Dash Parr. Buddy's the one who told me about Ms. Robinson's room for rent, so he just came over to see how I was doing I guess." Syndrome said, telling them the name he had told Ms. Robinson. He couldn't say his name was Buddy Pine, because then there'd be all kinds of weird questions.

"He hasn't been any trouble has he?" Mr. Pine asked, looking at Buddy accusingly. Syndrome remembered that look all too well.

"Oh, no. None at all! He had just offered to show me the neighborhood, so that I won't get lost looking for the shopping center." Syndrome said, trying to think of answers quickly, anything to keep the kid out of trouble. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Oh, okay. Buddy, you know the rule. Be back by ten." Mr. Pine said, pointing his index finger at Buddy. Syndrome sighed silently, glad to be out of that situation, and that the kid hadn't tried to help. Syndrome followed them out of the house, saying goodbye to Ms. Robinson.


	3. mirage of memories

**Writers Note: **SirenFoxx, thank you so much for the idea! That gives me something for Syndrome to talk about on the way to his 'friends' house. Thank you so much and I hope you don't mind that I'm going to use it! Thanks for the reviews everyone!

To anyone who's wondering, I got the idea for this story from a pic I found of Syndrome/Incrediboy on google.ca. Here's the URL: http/elfwood.lysator.liu.se/fanq/l/w/lwhyte2/syndrome.jpg.html

You should check it out; he has an awesome one of Frozone too.

**Disclaimer:** don't own don't sue. Leave me alone.

Buddy walked down the street, following the man. He seemed to know where he was going, which was always a good thing. Buddy on the other hand, had no clue where they were. At first he did, but two streets ago he had lost all track of where they were. And, to top it off he practically had to run to keep up with him.

"Can you slow down a little bit?" Buddy asked, running in front of Syndrome. "You may be twenty plus years, but I'm not. I'm only ten years old.

"No, actually, I can't. I didn't really want you to come in the first place, but then you'd get into trouble for being out without mom knowing, and I can't have that can I?" Syndrome said, slowing down a little. He was getting a little tired of this kid, had he actually been that annoying? No wonder Incredible had told him no. "I don't want to miss this guy; he can be very busy at the weirdest times."

"Fine, let's talk about something else! Do you have a girlfriend?" Buddy asked, smiling mischievously. Syndrome felt his heart skip a beat.

"Touchy subject kid, don't want to talk about it." Syndrome said, trying to think of something else, anything else.

"You do! What's her name? Is she pretty? Are you married? Do you like her?" Buddy started bombarding the questions out one after another, not stopping until Syndrome shot the kid with his zero-point energy gloves.

"I said I don't want to talk about it. So leave me alone." Syndrome said, setting the kid down in a tree.

"You think this will stop me? God, my memory must really suck in the future." Buddy said, simply flying out of the tree with his rocket boots. "So are you going to answer me or what? And shouldn't we start moving; you want to get there before nightfall don't you?" Syndrome could tell he wasn't going to get any quiet until he started talking.

"Fine! Yes I had a girlfriend, she was second-in-command of my island base, but then she ditched me for Mr. Incredible, happy?" Syndrome said, storming off, leaving the kid standing there speechless.

"What's her name?" Buddy asked quietly.

"Mirage; and I don't want to talk about her." Syndrome said, wiping a tear out of the corner of his eye. Buddy seemed to take this as a clue to shut up, so he simply walked beside Syndrome quietly.

Syndrome walked quietly, making sure to walk a little slower than usual so that the kid could keep up. He wished the kid hadn't brought Mirage up; now that was all he could think of. Why had she left him? He wasn't a bad person; all those years she had spent with him should have told her that. Yes he could obsess over things a little. Okay maybe a lot, but that could be a good thing right? That meant that seeing as he loved her; it was only her that he loved. Maybe she hadn't thought of that. No, she knew. That's why he had chosen her as his 2IC, she was smart.

He looked up at the house he had stopped in front of. It looked like every single other house on the block, only a little shabbier, a little more run-down.

He looked at Buddy, kneeling down to look at the kid in the eyes. "You stay here, there's a specific way you need to work with this guy, and you might mess it up. I'll wave you over when it's okay, otherwise, stay here and don't move. Don't have your hands hidden, he doesn't like that, he'll think that you have a weapon hidden." Syndrome said, standing up and taking two steps toward the house, the looking back. "Don't move, no matter what happens. I've dealt with this guy before." He said, turning back around and walking up to the door.

He knocked twice, rung the bell once, and then knocked two more times. The door opened a crack, then a little more to reveal a man.

"Name?" The man asked suspiciously.

"Syndrome." Syndrome said, crossing his arms.

"Business?"

"I need money."

"Who's the boy?"

"Buddy Pine, an associate."

"Come in, but wipe your feet." The man said, opening the door and heading down the hall. Syndrome turned around and waved Buddy over.

Buddy walked slowly over the lawn, not sure if he trusted this guy. He seemed really weird, and really jumpy.

"C'mon! We don't have all night!" Syndrome called, waving his hand urgently. Buddy sighed, running up to Syndrome. "Okay, new rules now. No sudden movements, don't speak unless spoken to, and make sure he's able to see your hands at all times." Syndrome said, hoping that the kid didn't make any mistakes.

Going into the house, Buddy found that the condition wasn't much better than the outside.

"This house should be condemned." He said, looking up at Syndrome, who smiled.

"He doesn't wanna waste the money or time. But you need to stop talking." Syndrome said as they walked into the kitchen.

"You need money then? Why should I help you?" The man asked. He was leaning against the counter, smoking a cigarette. From his posture, you wouldn't have guessed that he was jumpy, but all you needed to do was look at his eyes. They were looking at everything and anything at once, making sure nothing was missing or out of place. And he wasn't leaning just anywhere either, with a flick of his wrist he could have a butcher's knife in his hand and a barbeque lighter in the other.

"Because the fact that I know who you are, what you can do, where you are, and how you operate makes me a possible threat. I know a lot about you, more than you probably care to have known to the police. So if you don't help me, the police will." Syndrome said, his arms crossed. They were crossed in a way that the guy could see his hands.

"How much you need? What bills?" The guy asked, looking at Buddy. He seemed to trust Syndrome immediately, but still didn't trust Buddy. Syndrome had apparently noticed this already and had no plans to make him feel otherwise.

"As many of these you can manage." Syndrome said, pulling the guy's attention back to himself as he passed the guy a hundred-dollar bill.

"I'll see what I can do." The guy said, taking it and leaving the room, his eyes on Buddy for as long as he could. When Buddy was sure that the guy wouldn't be able to hear him, he sighed with relief.

"Who is that guy? He's creepy." He asked, receiving a quiet laugh from Syndrome.

"He can be, yes. And to tell you the truth, he's never told me his name and I've never asked. I think Mirage knew it, but she wouldn't tell me." Syndrome said, remembering the conversation with her he had had about this nutcase…

_Syndrome walked into the kitchen, to find Mirage sitting down at one of the many long tables. He pulled one of the mini cereal boxes down out of the cupboards and tore into it. He had just pulled an all-nighter, trying to fix the bugs in the latest omnidroid plans. There were a few left, but his hunger had overwhelmed him and forced him to get up for some food._

"_Hello." Mirage said pleasantly, reading a magazine. "We need to go visit your friend, the one you get all that money from." Syndrome nodded, acknowledging that he had heard her. He would have said something, but his mouth was full of dry cereal at the moment._

"_You know his name, why not just use it?" Syndrome said once he had swallowed the food. It annoyed him that Mirage had found out his name, but Syndrome still hadn't._

"_But you don't, and I promised him I wouldn't tell." Mirage answered, smiling slyly._

"_Come on! It's not like he's gonna kill you if you tell!" Syndrome whined. "Plus, he doesn't control your paycheck."_

"_Actually, he does. If it wasn't for him you wouldn't have any money at all." Mirage pointed out, still reading an article in her magazine. Syndrome didn't know what to say, so he simply grabbed another mini-box of cereal and stormed out of the room, to take his frustration out on some of the guards._

The guy walked into the room, with a large black plastic bag full of something. He walked over and placed it at Buddy's feet. Syndrome pulled it over in front of himself before Buddy could look into it. Reaching in, Syndrome pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills out and passed it to the guy. Buddy was too shocked to say anything, as that was more money than he had ever thought he would ever see in his entire lifetime.

"Come back anytime." The guy said, ushering them out. Buddy held it in until they were outside, and the guy was back inside the house.

"How did he get so much money so quickly? Who is that guy? Can I have some money?" Buddy asked quickly. Syndrome shook his head.

"I don't know his name, he's never told me and probably never will. No you can't have some money, I need it for something. No I won't tell you what it is. And as to how he got the money so quickly, he's a super and it's one of his powers to duplicate stuff perfectly." Syndrome explained quietly. "But you need to shut up about it or risk getting me, you, and him arrested." Buddy nodded quickly. He didn't want to get arrested.

"What are you going to do?" Buddy asked, knowing he probably wouldn't be included in whatever Syndrome did next.

"I'm going shopping." Syndrome smiled "And you're coming with me whether mom like's it or not."

**Writer's Note:** sorry for this one being so short, I just liked that as the last line and decided to end it there. I'll try and make the next one longer, I promise!


	4. New house, new stuff

**Disclaimer:** do not sue me.

**Writer's Note:** well, here's that next chapter! This weekend, if I manage it right, I might have two or three chapters to post, which will be a nice change to having none and flying by the seat of my pants. At least with the stories I'm writing now I have reviews spurring me on! yay for reviews!

Syndrome sat across from the real estate agent. He had found the property he wanted, the problem was getting the agent to go down to a price Syndrome liked.

"This property is worth _at least_ six-hundred fifty thousand dollars sir. Its for acres!" She kept saying, reminding Syndrome of a robot.

"How about 590k? That's as high as I can go." Syndrome said. The agent rolled her eyes.

"600 even."

"Done." Syndrome said, writing the lady a check. He hadn't felt right with carrying millions of dollars around with him, it just seemed wrong. So he had opened a bank account. It was still making him smile when he thought of the look on the banker's face when he had told her the amount he had wanted to open the account with. She had nearly fainted.

"Thank you, here's the deed. The owners are already moved out, have been for a year now." The agent said happily as she handed Syndrome the deed. Syndrome grabbed it and walked out, not saying another word.

Buddy was waiting outside, talking to some people who were also waiting outside. Upon seeing Syndrome, Buddy said goodbye and ran up to Syndrome's side.

"Now where are we going?" Buddy asked.

"We arent going anywhere. You're going home." Syndrome said. He hadn't started pulling all-nighters untill he was thirteen, and he wasn't going to let the kid start three years early.

"But I wanna stay with you! Home's boring!" Buddy whined.

"No. I have things to do that you can't come with me. Go home now, and I'll pick you up tomorrow." Syndrome said. "Call this number tomorrow at noon if you still want to come with me." Buddy nodded, taking the slip of paper and bus money Syndrome passed him.

"You promise you'll come and get me? You won't just leave me?" Buddy asked. Syndrome smiled and nodded, then pushed Buddy onto the bus. and waved.

"Now to get to business." Syndrome said once the bus was out of sight.

Buddy walked down the hall, yawning. It was the next day, and he was eager for it to get to noon, even if he had only just woken up. He walked into the kitchen and got some fruit loops, his favorite cereal.

Sitting at the table, he turned the radio on low, so he wouldn't wake anyone else up.

_And in other news, there has been a spree of robberies. The odd thing about these robberies are that they all happened within five minutes of each other, as far as the police can tell. That suggests that they were all planned by the same person, or a super-fast robber. We will keep you updated as the information arises._

Buddy sat there, milk dripping out of his mouth. What had Syndrome done? How had he done it? He knew why, there was no need to ask that, but how?

He looked at the phone number he had posted on the fridge, should he call? He certainly wanted to know what Syndrome was doing. But Syndrome had said not to call until noon.

William walked into the Kitchen without a shirt on. He was muscular, so the look worked for him. As he streached, a six-pack appeared momentarily.

"Why the fish face? Cat got your tounge?" He laughed, pulling down the blueberry pop tarts and eating one.

"Nothing. Just thinking." Buddy said, going back to his fruit loops.

"That must be what the burning smell is in here." William laughed. "You hear about those robberies? Apparently they think a local did it because they knew which stores to hit and when." William said, pulling another pop tart out of the box.

"What?" Buddy said, trying to sound surprised.

"Yeah, they think it was a super 'cause the cameras in the stores hit all went out at the exact same time."

"Cool, wonder who it was." Buddy said, finishing his fruit loops and getting up. He pulled Syndrome's phone number of the fridge and picked up the phone. He dialed the phone number carefully, making sure he didn't make any mistakes.

It rang twice, before being picked up.

"What?" The voice asked. They sounded busy.

"Umm... Syndrome?" Buddy asked, unsure if he had the right number.

"Who is this? Buddy? I told you not to call before noon! what time is it now?" There was a sound of shuffling papers, he was obviously looking for a clock. "It's only ten! Call back in two hours, I'm really busy right now." Then the line went dead, Syndrome had hung up. Buddy didn't know whether to laugh or be shocked. He had hung up! and didn't even let him say anything! Then again, he had sounded busy, and tired at that matter.

"Who's Syndrome?" William asked. Buddy shook his head, leaving the room. He needed to figure out what he was going to do.

Syndrome tossed his cell phone back on the desk he was sitting at. He was amazed that it still worked, he hadn't thought there was cell phones like that back when he was ten, thinking they had been those huge black boxes that no one liked. Well, you learned something new every day.

"Now where was I?" He said to himself. He had fallen asleep sometime during the night, having not slept since Incredible had arrived on his the second time. He looked at the mess on his desk, it was covered in papers that had been the plans to the robberies last night. They had all gone off without a hitch, which was a good thing. The last thing he needed was imbeciles working for him.

"Sir?" The man who had coordinated one of the robberies came into the room. Syndrome had chosen him because he had a few years military training.

"What?" Syndrome asked, rubbing his eyes and moving some papers around on his desk, looking for a specific paper.

"Everything we lifted is in the main hall, the men are asking if they're allowed to go home and sleep, they're all tired."

"Yeah, sure. Of course, no need for everyone to loose sleep." Syndrome said, continuing his search for the paper. It was the paper that had an inventory of everything he had needed. He wasn't sure if everything had arrived yet, they were shipping the stuff from various warehouses around the city in waves as to not attract too much attention. That was the last thing Syndrome needed right now was unwanted attention.

"Thank you sir." The man said, saluting before he left.

Finding the sheet on the bottom of one of the piles he had already looked in, he picked it up (scattering many papers over the floor in the process) and ran down the stairs. He had everything piled in the front foyer and living room to the house he had bought the day before. It was a big foyer and living room, so everything that had arrived so far fit perfectly.

Syndrome looked at everything, checking it off the list. There were even a few extra things, that the people who had done the job had thrown in simply because. One of them was a set of Mr. Incredible bedsheets, which Syndrome threw into the fireplace with a scream of rage. If it hadn't been for that bastard, he wouldn't have been here in the first place. Well he'd get his revenge in due time.

Looking up, he heard a faint ringing. It was his cell phone, he'd know that ringtone anywhere. It was the Mario theme song, you could never go wrong with the classics. He ran back up the stairs, thinking that he really needed to start working out again. He picked up his phone and took a couple of deep breaths before putting it up to his ear.

"What?" He asked. The only people who had this phone number were the people he had given it to, so he never got wrong numbers.

"Can I come over yet?" asked a small voice. Looking at the uncovered clock, it showed 11:00, it had been an hour? It hadn't seemed like it. Syndrome rolled his eyes, running his free hand through his hair that he had recently dyed black. He didn't need anyone thinking that he and the kid were related, that could be bad in the future.

"Fine. I'll send someone over for you." Syndrome said, hoping the kid didn't have anything else to say. He needed to do some quick searching for someone to get the kid.

"Okay, thanks!" The kid said happily, hanging up. Syndrome racked his brain, when was the next shipment of stuff leaving? Half an hour, they could pick the kid up. Syndrome quickly dialed the number and told them the address, that the kid was very important, and if anything happened to him it would be their jobs.

Syndrome stuffed the phone in his pocket and went back downstairs to move the stuff out of the foyer. He wanted some of that stuff put away before the kid arrived. The last thing he needed was the kid finding stuff he shouldn't.

Buddy sat in the front seat of a moving van, wondering where this place actually was. He was really excited to find out the place that Syndrome lived in. It sure was far out of town, that meant lots of privacy. He guessed that was a good thing, no one would trespass.

They pulled off onto a dirt road that was lined with trees. It wasn't a thick lining, but thick enough that it was fairly dark in the forest.

"What's in the back?" Buddy asked, looking at the man sitting beside him. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept all night. He didn't even look at Buddy, simply grunted and continued driving. Buddy sighed, continuing to look out the window at the unchanging scenery.

After ten minutes the tree's started to thin out, and then disappeared altogether. In the open space there was a big house, with a large open space in the front and back of it. This place was big, which made Buddy think of something one of the girls at school had said once; "Guy's that like owning big stuff have little birds." The memory sent him off into laughter.

Once the truck stopped moving, Buddy jumped out of the truck and ran into the house. When he got there, he found that Syndrome was no where in sight, instead there was tons of boxes and furniture. Looking left, he saw a large living room, also with boxes lining the walls.

"Well now we know where all the stolen stuff went." Buddy said, thinking out loud.

"This isn't actually it, there's more arriving every so often." Said a voice behind him that made Buddy jump. Looking behind him quickly, he found it was only Syndrome, standing there smiling. It wasn't a pleasent smile, but it wasn't completley evil either.

"Where'd you come from?" Buddy smiled, confused. He hadn't been in the room when he had arrived.

"That, my young friend, is N.O.Y.B."

"N.O.Y.B?"

"None Of Your Business."

"Oh." Buddy said dejectedly. "You need any help moving things around?"

"No, I can manage fine. Why'd you want to come?" Syndrome asked, getting straight to the point.

"Home's boring, William's mean, and Mitch and John have both gone away on family trips. No wheres else to go." Buddy shrugged. "You sure you don't need help?"

"Yes, I'm sure I can manage, I didn't harness zero-point energy for nothing." Syndrome smiled. "I'd forgotten about William, how old is he now?"

"End of his first year of high school."

"Not much longer then."

"Not much longer till what?"

"He goes joyriding with a drunk driver and breaks his left leg and right arm. His leg will need a permanent brace, his arm will never fully heal. Gets him kicked off the teams he's on and eventually stops picking on you." Syndrome said, smiling. He obviously enjoyed the memory. "Mom and dad were crushed, but when he moves out a few months later with a new girlfriend you get all the attention."

"Cool, bigger allowance."

"Much bigger." Syndrome continued smiling. Finally someone who somewhat understood him!

"Are you sure you won't need help?"

"Yes! I am quite sure that I can manage! Look, wander around if you want. I only have a few more things that _need_ to be moved. Then you can have my full attention." Syndrome said. Buddy sighed. He should have known this would happen. He had sounded busy on the phone.

"Okay." Buddy said, walking past Syndrome back into the foyer. Syndrome watched him wander off down the hall, no doubt looking at the many different rooms. He was about to start lifting a box with his zero-point energy when the kid looked back.

"When'd you turn your hair black?" He asked. "It looks funny that way."

"It's called blending in. You should learn how. I figure it's better if people don't think we're related." Syndrome explained.

"Okay, just wondering." Buddy shrugged. Syndrome sighed, he didn't like black hair. It was too dark, but it was too late to turn back now. He saw the kid go into a room, and zapped a pile of boxes that needed to be moved with his zero-point energy beam and lifted them up. They needed to go into the vault, the only room with a lock on it. That was soon to change, but for now everything of some value went in there. It was mostly odds and ends that he was going to put together to build himself a miniature version of his omni-droid. He was going to take on Incredible again, and this time beat him.The only thing was this time was that his family wouldn't be there to save him.


	5. Little problem

**Disclaimer:** Enter witty disclaimer comment here. I'm running out.

**Writer's note:** here's number two written over the weekend! yay for the fact I have no life over the weekend! woot! As requested here's the link for the pic, sorry that the other one doesn't work, hope this one does! http/ew2.lysator.liu.se/pic/fanq/l/w/lwhyte2/syndrome.jpg

Syndrome put the last important boxes into the vault, then closed and locked it. Buddy walked up behind him. He had been following Syndrome for a while now, having found nothing of interest to amuse himself with.

"How long have you been following me?" Syndrome called out, not turning around.

"Long enough. I was bored. You still sure you don't need help?" Buddy asked. The look he recieved from Syndrome told him if he asked again he most likely would never see hide nor hair of Syndrome ever again, untill he grew up into him.

"Fine! No need to go nuclear on me." Buddy said, looking at the door behind Syndrome. "What's in there?"

"Stuff." Syndrome said, leading Buddy down the hall. "Now what do you want to do? Everything that absolutely needed to be done is done, so you can have almost all my attention." Syndrome said, wondering how long this kid was actually going to stay.

"Almost?"

"When the next shipment arrives I need to go out and make sure they don't break anything." Syndrome explained.

"How about we go through some of these boxes? If everything important's been put away, then it shouldn't matter what I see from this point in." Buddy asked.

"Almost true. All the most important stuff has been put away, but that doesn't mean there isn't stuff in there that I still don't want you to see, at least not yet." Syndrome said, smiling. He had gotten that particular line from his uncle when he was not much older than the kid was now.

"What are we going to do then?" Buddy asked, getting bored. There was a ringing, and Syndrome rolled his eyes.

"Telephone central I swear..." He said as he took his cell phone out of his pocket. "What?"

"Okay, right."

"what?"

"You better cover them!"

"No! Don't you dare come here!"

"you WHAT! I'll be there in ten minutes!" Syndrome said, practically throwing his phone onto the nearby boxes while he ran out the door, Buddy hot on his heels.

"Where are you going?" He called.

"Idiots! That's what they are! Idiots!" Syndrome replied, obviously forgetting about Buddy.

"Can I come?"

"I have to fix something! Find something to do while I'm gone! But dont go into those boxes!" Syndrome shouted, looking back as he started to fly off into the sky. Buddy didn't know what to do, so he followed behind at a safe distance with _his_ rocket boots.

**Writer's note:** Sorry! I know I promise longer chapters, but I loved the ending to this one, so I had to stop it here! Damn good lines!


	6. Couple of Accidents

**Disclaimer:** blah blah, dont own and all that jazz.

**Writer's note:** I don't really have anything pressing to say for this one, just felt like having one. I'm running into a little writer's block now. It's coming on slowly, an ominous cloud of gloom hanging over the horizon that is the end of the story.

ANYWAYS...

What music am I listening to right now? Great Big Sea! woot to country! I love it and I'm proud of it! woot to country!

Syndrome flew through the skies, fuming. He couldn't believe what idiots they were! He had told them to watch out, but had they listened? No, don't listen to the guy who know's what he's talking about, he'll only be right!

He couldn't believe it. The truck that had been carrying the most important part of his plan had been intercepted by the one person he had told them all to avoid, Mr. Incredible. They claimed he had come out of nowheres. One minute they had been surrounded by average, ordinary, every day cars, and the next they had Mr. Incredible's car right in front of them and Mr. Incredible pulling them all out of the truck cab with Elastigirl searching the back. One of the guys had managed to get away for long enough to call Syndrome for help. Syndrome knew he'd get there too late. Idiots!

He flew above the city, heading to the highway. As far as he could figure this was the third-to-last shipment. He had told them specifically to avoid them, but like usual he wasn't listened to. God he missed Nomanisan, at least there his orders were carried out the way he wanted. And if they were changed, it was still to benefit him. Maybe someday he would be able to go back.

He stopped in mid-air, he was over the highway. He couldn't see the truck, or Incredible's car. All he did know was that there was no cars going down the road, which was strange as there should have been lunchtime traffic. Well, might as well follow the road.

It didn't take long to find the truck, it was knocked over on it's side behind the legendary Incredicar. Syndrome was surprised that Mr. Incredible still went out in public, after all the lawsuits put against him. Maybe that was what he had been coming from.

Syndrome put his mask over his eyes and flew down to the road, landing beside Mr. Incredible.

"What's the problem?" He asked, acting like he was supposed to be there. The men that had been driving the van, that were now in the backseat of policecars all stared at Syndrome blankly.

"Nothing anymore, we just caught the men who robbed all those stores." One of the officers said, smiling. "We think there might have been more, and one person to coodinate it all. These guy's are a little too dense to have been able to do all that alone."

"Is there any way that I can help?" Syndrome asked, arms crossed.

"If you could stay here and make sure no one takes the things in the back that would be a big help. Myself and Elastigirl have somewheres important to be." Mr. Incredible said to Syndrome. "You just saved my butt, thanks."

"No problem, anytime." Syndrome said happily, though inside he was seething. It took all his self-control to not go out and attack the guy. _Not here_ he kept telling himself, _It's too open, you'll get him later, when you're ready._

Mr. Incredible jumped over to his car and sped away, Elastigirl in the passenger seat. Syndrome watched them drive away, and that was when he noticed it. A thin line of smoke above the buildings, leading to the roof of one. The kid had followed him.

"Goddammit." Syndrome swore to himself. Now he had to be really carefull what he did, that kid was no doubt watching him. He quickly turned his attention to the people now crowding around the overturned truck, wanting to find out what the holdup was. The police officers were trying to get everyone away from the van, unsuccessfully. Syndrome waited until no one was touching the van, and then shot it with his zero-point energy gloves and lifted it out of the reach of the people that had been crowding around it.

"Nothing to see here people, move along." Syndrome said, stepping to the side of the road while levitating the truck above his head. The police moved their cars out of the way and started the grueling task of getting everyone moving again. There was a lot of grumbling that someone was late for something or other, but Syndrome wasn't listening. He was trying to think of a way that he could get the stuff out from the truck.

Buddy watched in amazement as Syndrome went to help Mr. Incredible. Had he gone crazy sometime during growing up? He hated Mr. Incredible and everything to do with him! Now he saw Syndrome helping him? He would have to ask him about that, how he feels about Mr. Incredible.

He froze when Syndrome looked up at the buildings. He was hidden on a rooftop, so he knew Syndrome couldn't see him. But if he was simply an older version of himself, he'd know what to look for. He was found out, Syndrome knew he was there, he knew it.

"Aww man..." Buddy sighed. He had hoped to get away with following Syndrome the whole day, kinda like a spy in one of those James Bond movies. Guess he wasn't doing that.

He looked over the parapet of the roof, to see Syndrome levitating a truck over his head. He seemed preoccupied, like he was thinking.

"Maybe he needs my help now!" Buddy said hopefully. He jumped off the building, which caused some people on the ground to scream. Then he turned on his rocket boots and shot off into the sky, smirking down at the people who were laughing at the fact they had been scared.

He shot off towards Syndrome, to see how he could help, before he landed he pulled his blue mask out of his pocket and put it on. He didn't need people recognizing him. If there were news crews down there his parents would be furious that he had been on the highway, and then he'd be grounded for the rest of eternity. He couldn't have that could he?

Once his mask was on, he quickly went off and landed next to Syndrome.

"Need some help?" He asked quietly.

"Yes! No one's seen you yet, get into the truck and get the smallest box in there! Quick!" Syndrome gasped. Buddy couldn't tell if his expression was surprised, happy, or angry. He decided it was a mix of all three as he flew into the truck.

"Be sure not to touch the truck!" Syndrome warned quickly. Buddy nodded, not turning off his rocket boots when he got in. The truck slowly started filling up with smoke, but Buddy quickly saw the box Syndrome had wanted. The only thing was that there was three boxes all the same size.

"There's three 'smallest boxes'!" Buddy called, starting to panic.

"Grab them all then!" Syndrome said back, though a lot quieter. He then heard Syndrome start to talk to someone, one of the police. This was getting really bad, Buddy's heart started to beat fast, he was panicking. He picked up the three boxes and simply floated in mid-air, not knowing what to do. He saw the truck turning, and he started to move towards the door, making sure the truck didn't touch him, just as Syndrome said. He didn't know why, but he trusted Syndrome to know what he was talking about. He was older than him after all.

Buddy saw that the Truck had moved around completely, to face away from Syndrome and the surrounding police officers. relief flooding through him, he flew out of the truck and into a nearby alleyway between two buildings. He sat down on the ground, his heart racing. If that was what he was going to go through when he was older, he didn't want to grow up!

After fifteen minutes, Syndrome flew over to Buddy, looking very tired. He was rubbing his wrists repeatedly. "Where are they?" He asked, going straight to business. Buddy produced the boxes from on top of an upturned trash can. Syndrome grabbed them and sat down in a similar position as Buddy had when he had first sat down from getting there. He smiled at Buddy mischievously. "That was close huh?"

Buddy couldn't help but laugh at his optimism. The guy had just barely gotten away with robbery (right under the police's noses) and he was still in a half-decent mood.

"Close. Very close. Uncomfortably close. I never want to go through that again." Buddy said, still calming down. Syndrome laughed airily.

"Well that's just too bad for you. Now let's see what we got." He went into the first box, and quickly tossed it aside. It had what looked like tons of floppy disks in it. When he opened the second one, his face lit up like a hundred-watt bulb. He had apparently found what he had been looking for, because he put the other box aside without even opening it.

"You can have whatever's in that." Syndrome said, tossing it over to Buddy. He didn't even look away from the box he was holding.

Buddy caught it easily, and turned the box over in his hands. He wondered what was inside it. He found where it was supposed to be opened, and lifted the flaps slowly, savouring the excitement of the unknown. once it was open, he lifted the first layer of bubble wrap, to find two sets of walkie-talkies.

"Cool." Buddy muttered, causing Syndrome to crawl over and sit beside Buddy to look over his shoulder into the box.

"Walkie-talkies, those could come in handy." Syndome said, smiling. "Most games are wicked when you have walkie-talkies."

"Yeah, it's too bad Mitch and John have gone away for the rest of the summer." Buddy said sadly. Syndrome put on an offended look.

"And suddenly I'm chopped liver!" He laughed. "Fine! I can see when I'm not wanted!" He crossed his arms, and turned around pretending to ignore Buddy. Buddy rolled his eye's, he had done the exact same thing to his friends almost every other week.

"Let's just go back to your place." Buddy said, standing up. Syndrome nodded, standing up and carefully placing his box into one of his pockets.

"Yeah, but you should go home for today, I seriously need some sleep, I haven't in almost three day's." Syndrome said, proving it with a yawn. "You can come over tomorrow or the next day."

"Or I could just stay at your place, and tell mom and dad I'm staying at a friends house."

"Or you could simply go home, I don't really want you going through those boxes, which I'm pretty sure that is one of the only reasons you want to stay the night." Syndrome said, smiling. He was in a good mood, he had been able to get the only thing that was worth something in that truck. Everything else that was of value had come in one of the first trucks.

"Please can I come with you? I can help the guards, I know how to fight!"

"No. I don't need the fact you're there running around keeping me up. I seriously need some sleep, even if it's only an hour or two." Syndrome said.

"Please?"

"Look, this topic isn't up for discussion! You can't come! End of story!" Syndrome said, anger edging his voice, which was showing definite signs of fatigue. Buddy knew that when he himself got really tired he could be stubborn as a mule, so he didn't bother trying to talk Syndrome into it. Maybe tomorrow night.

"Fine. I'll go home." Buddy said, flying off towards his house. Syndrome yawned, and streached. He watched the kid fly off, making sure he didn't stop for a very long time, and then took off himself. He got just to the edge of the city when he fell asleep in mid-air. He fell out down onto a parked car.

Buddy arrived home to pandemonium. His parents were going haywire.

"What's wrong mom?" He asked.

"Where in the world have you been young man?" She asked shrilly.

"At one of my friends houses, didn't William tell you? He knew where I was, I asked him to tell you." Buddy said, confused. William had said he would tell them.

His mother stormed off. "William! You said you didn't know where Buddy was!"

"What? Oh! I forgot. Sorry mom."

"You better be mister, you're grounded."

"Mom! what about my friends? I've gotta keep in shape for next year! We're going to the regionals!"

"Well you should have thought about that before!"

"Mom!" William pleaded, Buddy smiled happily as he heard a bedroom door slam. The smiled disappeared once William stormed down the stairs though, murder in his eyes.

"This is your fault!" He growled, picking Buddy up by the scruff of his neck.

"What? I didn't do anything!" Buddy said, squirming. He couldn't breath.

"It's all your fault!" William growled again, slamming Buddy against the nearest wall. Small dots framed his field of vision as he scrabbled against Williams strong hands.

"No! I didn't do anything!" Buddy gasped, but William wasn't listening. His mind was already made up. It was Buddy's fault he was grounded and he was going to punish the squirt for it. He threw Buddy down onto the hard linoleum of the kitchen, giving Buddy a momentary blast of fresh air as he was in the air, only to have it knocked out of him as he hit the floor.

"Your fault!" William growled as he picked Buddy up again and threw him against the cupboards. Buddy's head felt like it was about to split open it hurt that much, and he couldn't feel the arm he had landed on. William kicked Buddy in the side, causing Buddy to scream in pain. William kicked Buddy again just as their parents ran into the room. Their father pulled William away from Buddy as their mother went to see if he was okay, but the damage was already done.

Buddy couldn't see anything, he was too scared to open his eyes, but the last thing he heard was his mother asking him if he was alright before he passed out.

**Writer's Note:** I'm gonna have a hard time writing the beginning of the next chapter. Who to wake up first? I'll figure it out eventually, I'll probably do my good ol' standby of asking my sister. Lol, at least she comes in handy for some things!


	7. awake

**Disclaimer:** Leave me and my handfull of charecters alone. End of story.

**Writer's Note:** I liked the end of that last chapter, it was fun to write. Sad, but fun all the same. Well, heres this chapter! Hope you like it! Read and review please!

Syndrome woke up to someone he didn't recognize talking to him.

"Yes, we've got to wake up soon, don't we?" It was a female voice. "The doctor would like to talk, but he can't when we're asleep now can he?"

"Who are you?" Syndrome asked, his words slurred. He tried to lift his arm, but he didn't have the energy, he could barely move his fingers.

"You're awake! I'll go get the doctor." She said, running out the door and into the hallway. She came back a few minutes later with a man in a white labcoat.

"Well, you've had a lot of people here in a good panic, you and that kid that came in just after you. Can you feel anything?" He asked, holding a clipboard in his left hand while he stood next to Buddy's bed.

"Huh?" Syndrome asked, confused. Who was this guy? Where was he? When was he?

"He might be confused, he has been out for three day's." The lady whispered to the doctor. Three day's? What happened that he had been out for three day's? And why did his whole body hurt?

"True. My name is Doctor Brown. What's yours?" That was a good question, what was his name?

"uhh... Dash?" That sounded right, yes, that was what he told that lady at that house.

"Hello Dash. You've been asleep for three day's." Wow, three day's. no matter how many times he heard that it still sounded like a lot.

"Huh..." Syndrome was too tired to say anything else.

"You fell out of the sky onto a car parked outside someone's house." Well that would explain why everywhere on his body hurt.

"Can you feel anything?" Not through this pain no.

"Pain..." Syndrome mumbled, his eyelids heavy. He started to close his eyes.

"Now now, don't fall asleep on us, we still need to find some things out about you." Syndrome felt someone touch his arm and then his forehead. Their hand was cold, but it felt good. "He's running a fever, get something to try and cool him down." Someone said, but their voices were already fading as Syndrome passed back into unconsciousness.

When Syndrome next woke up, he felt much better than the last time. He remembered little of the conversation, only the fact his whole body had hurt. He opened his eyes slowly, the lights in the room really bright.

"You're awake again! Oh, and Dr. Brown just left too." He saw the lady from before, who he figured was a nurse, go running out of the room and come back with the doctor he vaguely remembered.

"Now, don't go falling asleep on us again, okay?" The doctor said, smiling worriedly.

" 'kay." Syndrome mumbled, his speech still slightly slurred.

"Dash, how old are you?"

"uhhh... twenty-five." Syndrome answered slowly. He got mad at himself for his mind working so slowly.

"Can you feel anything?"

"dunno." Syndrome tried moving his fingers, they wiggled but it hurt to do so. "Pain still."

"You can move your fingers though, and that's a good sign. It's a good thing your in such good shape, or else you might have been more seriously injured." Dr. Brown smiled. "What do you remember?"

"Remember?" Syndrome thought for a minute. That was a good question, what did he remember? sitting with Buddy, then flying off, then black. "Buddy, flying, then here." Syndrome said, his speech improving a little as the pain of moving started ebbing away.

"Buddy? as in Buddy Pine?" The doctor asked worriedly.

"Yeah." Syndrome said. He knew he should be worried, but he was still too confused to feel much else than tired and confused. "Why?"

"Never mind. Do you live in the city?"

"Outskirts."

"Where do you live?"

"Duke." Syndrome replied, starting to feel sleepy. His eyes started to close, but he forced them open.

"It can't be good that he's so sleepy." The doctor muttered to himself. "Dash, tell me. When was the last time you slept before you came here?"

"uhh..." lets see, if it had been three day's, that would be thursday, then three day's again would be... "Monday night, I think."

"Monday night? No wonder you fell out of the sky, you collapsed out of a lack of energy!"

"Sorry?" Syndrome laughed, but then stopped. It hurt too much.

"You shouldn't go that long without sleep Dash, it isn't good for you." Dr. Brown said, making a note on his clipboard.

"Where's Buddy?" Syndrome asked. Had the kid found out?

"Can you move anything?" Dr. Brown asked, ignoring Syndrome's question. Well two could play at that game.

"Where's Buddy?" Syndrome asked again. The lady looked worriedly at Dr. Brown, before scurrying out of the room at the request of another nurse.

"Do you really want to know?" Dr. Brown asked.

"Where's Buddy?"

"He arrived here an hour after you did. He still hasn't woken up."

"What happened?" Syndrome asked, trying to sit up. It hurt, but he managed it.

"From what his parents told us, his brother got mad and started beating him up." An image of William holding him against a wall came into Syndrome's mind. "He's in a coma, we don't know when he'll be out."

"Gotta go see him." Syndrome groaned, moving his legs over the side of the bed. Before he managed to get up though, the doctor was pulling him back onto the bed.

"Leave me alone!" Syndrome said tiredly as he tried to fight the doctor off and get up. The doctor called for help, and two nurses walked into the room, took in the situation, and ran to help. Between the three of them, they managed to get Syndrome laying back down onto the bed. Syndrome was now too tired from fighting them off to get up.

"You can't get up yet, you need to save your energy." The doctor said, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

"Gotta go see Buddy." Syndrome said stubbornly.

"You can, as soon as you have enough energy. Which you have next to none of right now. You can go later." Dr. Brown said, picking his clipboard up off the floor. He had dropped it when Syndrome had tryed to get up off the bed. "We'll keep you updated on his condition, if it will keep you in bed."

"Okay." Syndrome replied. His body hurt again from all that moving. Why did it still hurt? If it had been three days, then that would have been plenty of time for them to heal.

"Why do my legs hurt?" Syndrome asked as the nurses left.

"One of your legs is broken and the other is sprained. That's another reason you can't get up yet." The doctor said. Syndrome sighed, he was going to be here for a long time, they'd never let him out in this condition.

"There's a visitor for Mr. Dash." A nurse said, poking her head in the door. Syndrome was confused now, who was there that would visit him? The only person he really knew in this time was Buddy and he was in no condition to go visiting.

"Okay, I'm done here for today anyway." Dr. Brown said to the nurse. "Remember- no getting up." Syndrome nodded. Syndrome watched the doctor leave, pause in the doorway for a moment, then disappear off down the hallway.

In walked in two people he didn't want to see, Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl. Of course they were dressed in civilian clothes and going by their current civilian name, Robert and Helen Smith. Syndrome put on a happy face anyway. No need to be rude.

"Hello, we heard about what happened to you on the news, and decided to come visit you." Bob said as they walked over to Syndrome's bed.

"Thanks, I don't really know many people around here." Syndrome said.

"Do you hurt?" Helen asked, concern in her eyes. This surprised Syndrome, the last person to actually care about him was his mother, Mirage not counting because she had only wanted his money.

"Not much, no." Syndrome lied, thinking about standing up. The doctor wasn't here, what was the harm? Then he remembered his broken leg, that was the harm.

"That's good." Helen said happily, believing his lie. "It would have been terrible if you had hurt yourself."

"Can you move at all?" Bob asked. Syndrome nodded his head.

"It hurts, but I can move a little." Syndrome replied.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Not much no. All I can remember is talking to Buddy Pine, then He flew off on his Rocket boots, then I flew off on my rocket boots, then nothing." Why was he telling them so much? It was none of their business! It felt good to talk to someone closer to his age though.

"Buddy Pine? You know him?" Syndrome was tempted to say that he didn't only know him he _was_ him, but decided against it.

"Yeah, he apparently arrived here about an hour after I did, something to do with his older brother." Syndrome said, silently enjoying the look of horror on Bob's face.

"What? Please tell me you're kidding!" Bob said, his face worried.

"I wouldn't kid about something like this." Syndrome said. "I don't know where in the building he is, but he's somewhere around here. I haven't been allowed to get up and see him yet, but I'm really worried about the kid."

"I've gotta go see him." Bob said, heading to the door. "See you later." He said, turning around briefly to wave bye to Syndrome. Helen nodded, following behind her husband. "Bye!" She said to Syndrome. And he was alone again, just like that.

Buddy lay on his hospital bed, unmoving, and barely breathing. His parents sat asleep in the chairs next to his bed, waiting for their youngest son to wake up. Buddy's mind wasn't there though, it was in a far-off place between where you dream and you wake up. He was neither awake or asleep.

His mother woke up, lifting her head off her husbands shoulder. She had been dreaming of the day that all this had happened, when William had beat up Buddy. She felt responsible. If she hadn't grounded William, he wouldn't have gotten angry and done this to Buddy. Everyone told her that it wasn't her fault, but none of their words could make her feel better. The only person who could do that was Buddy himself, but he couldn't say anything to anyone at the moment.

Buddy's father woke up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He didn't feel responsible for what happened to Buddy, but he was worried about what was going to happen to him. Every time he looked at his youngest son he couldn't help but feel sad at how feeble Buddy looked, laying there with all those wires and tubes attached to his body. He couldn't help but wonder, what would have happened if he had gotten there sooner? Could all this have been avoided? Would Buddy have been in better shape? Why hadn't he seen something like this coming from William? So many questions that couldn't be answered, only cause guilty feelings that he hadn't done something to prevent this.

Buddy's eyes fluttered open. He looked around at where he was. What had happened? William! William had done this! He had known this had been coming, William was almost always angry at Buddy for something he had nothing to do with. Except this time he _did_ have something to do with it, which is probably what caused him to snap.

Buddy's mother looked over to her son, and she gasped when she saw his eyes open and looking around. Buddy's father did the same thing, he gasped and almost burst out in tears. His wife had already burst out in tears, she had jumped over to Buddy's side, holding his hand. They were both unsure of what to do, this was such a happy moment.

"You're awake, oh my god your awake." She whispered, tears in her eyes. A nurse looked in and smiled, turning around to tell a doctor that Buddy Pine was awake. But not right away, let his parents be happy first. Then get the doctor.

Ten minutes later a doctor walked in, understanding why the nurse had taken her time telling him. They boy's parents were both crying, happy that their son was finally awake. No one had known when the boy was going to wake up, fifteen minutes or fifteen years they couldn't say. The mother had gone into hysterics, she wanted her son awake.The staff felt terrible for them.

"You're going to need to leave for a moment, I need to see how he's doing." The doctor said, standing in the doorway. Buddy's mother started to protest, but Buddy's father shook his head. They could leave Buddy for a little while.

**Writer's Note:** Well, here it is! chapter seven! I think this fanfic is going to end up being my longest yet. Of course, _Friends No More_ will probably be right up there with it. Read and Review! obey the blue button!


	8. Authors Note

Just thought to post this and tell everyone that I'm not going to be able to update for a little while. I lost the disk holding all the chapters for the two Incredibles Fanfics I'm writing. I will update again eventually, but It's going to be a little while. I need to get all the chapters back onto a disk so that I can look back to them at home (I don't have the internet at home).

Thank you for your patience, and all your ever-loved reviews so far! I'll try and get the next few chapters to you ASAP!

§¤ Gremblin ¤§


	9. You're coming with me

**Disclaimer:** The Incredibles are not mine. So froozle to Pixar if they want to sue me for being a fan.

**Writer's Note:** Submarines are cool. I wish I had one. Wee! I found the disk with the eighth chapter! It was sitting beside the computer I go on during my computer class. I'm so happy! I'd be jumping up and down had I not been in class! ((I'll do that at home))

Syndrome was stuck in bed for two weeks before Dr. Brown would let him even attempt to get up. It was mainly because that was how long it took Syndrome's sprained leg to heal. Over the two weeks, Syndrome was bored out of his mind, only having the television to occupy his time. He hadn't been very interested in watching TV since he was twelve so he got bored with it after the third day. He ended up spending most of the time drawing up schematics for the omnidroid he planned to build once he was out.

When he was first allowed to start getting up, it was under strict terms. He wasn't allowed to go far from his room, if he even left it at all. Syndrome could barely stand at first, let alone walk so he didn't go far from his _bed_ let alone room. But he slowly got back enough strength to be allowed to go home after another two weeks. But Syndrome refused to go home, not until he saw Buddy.

Buddy lay asleep in his bed. He had been in the hospital for a month now, and his condition had rapidly improved. He was able to feed himself now, and speak a little. His parents got excited over the smallest things, like the first time he had laughed at something funny on TV. His mom especially, she had apoloqized almost a thousand times for something Buddy barely remembered.

When Syndrome walked in, fully dressed with a cast on one leg and leaning on crutches, Buddy was extatic. The doctors had told his parents to go home and rest, that there was nothing they could do for Buddy half-asleep. They had agreed, however reluctantly. Buddy had been looking forward to the time alone, but he loved the fact Syndrome had come to visit him.

"Hey kid." Syndrome said, walking over to Buddy's bed.

"Hello." Buddy said, his voice weak.

"How are you doing? Mom and Dad taking care of you?" Syndrome seemed genuinly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm good." Buddy said, taking a small bite of a slice of an apple one of the nurses had brought him.

"You need anything? Bored?"

"No, what happened?" Buddy said, pointing to Syndrome cast. Syndrome laughed.

"I told you I was tired, I fell asleep flying home." Buddy knew he shouldn't laugh, but it was just so funny! He started laughed, then couldn't stop. Syndrome watched, and couldn't help but join in. Now he thought about it, it was kinda funny. A doctor passed the room, and seeing the two of them laughing, smiled. Laughter was the best medicine after all.

"You coming back?" Buddy asked.

"Maybe in a day or two. Mom and Dad will be more than enough company for you I'm thinking." Syndrome replied, still smiling. He knew he needed to check out soon, he had things he needed to do at home.

"Come back soon." Buddy said. Syndrome nodded.

"I will, and I'll bring you some of those walkie-talkies." Syndrome said. Buddy's face lit up, that would be cool!

"Bye." Buddy said, turning his attention back to the TV show. It was _'Mighty Morphing Power Rangers'_ Syndrome smiled, laughing quietly as he left the room.

Syndrome sat in a taxi, heading home. He would have normally flown there using his rocket boots, but as he was only able to wear one, he decided to take the long way. It gave him time to enjoy being outside the hospital anyway.

It was a long ride, but Syndrome enjoyed every minute of it. He was glad to be up and about. Being confined to the hospital bed had been torture, not being allowed to move around. At least he was able to do so now without it hurting.

When he got back to his new house, the first thing he noticed was the boxes. They had multiplied, and some had been opened. He knew why some had been opened, the people that had been bringing them probably had something in one of them that they wanted. But he hadn't expected there to be so many more, had they gone on more raids while he had been hospitalized? Who had told them to?

"Hello Syndrome." Said an oddly familiar voice. Syndrome swallowed nervously. It couldn't be her, could it? He looked behind him, no one there. He went into the large living room to find Mirage sitting there on a couch.

"How did you get here?" He asked her.

"That's a good question, one you should ask yourself. How did _you_ get here?" She asked him, smiling slyly.

"I asked you first."

"You don't know?"

"Should I?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"It would be nice." Syndrome said, getting tired of this. This was one of the parts of Mirage he had always hated, the fact that she could keep a conversation going on one subject for an hour and it not get anywheres.

"Let me lay it out for you. You got blown into the jet turbine, yes?"

"Yes."

"You then found out that you couldn't get out, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then your cape got caught on the propeller blade inside the turbine. Realizing this, you shot the blades with a zero-point energy beam. Only to get caught in it yourself. Then the plane exploded, yes?"

"Yes." Syndrome wished she would just hurry up and get on with it.

"Here's what happened: When the plane exploded, you were caught in the zero-point energy beam. The explosion, coupled with the zero-point energy, acted as a time machine and blasted you back in time." Mirage finished.

"How did you figure all this out?" Syndrome asked, confused. He hadn't even figured it out, how did she do it before he did?

"Oh, I didn't. Rick Dicker and his team of technicians figured it out. As you full well know I have the power to cause distortions in time and space, giving me the ability to travel through time." Syndrome knew this wasn't it, there had to be more.

"and?"

"And, your actions in the past has changed the future. Rick asked me to come and get you before you did irrepairable damage. As it is, I'm surprised that you're still the way you are." She looked him up and down, just now noticing that one of his legs had a cast on them and he was leaning on crutches. "What happened?" She asked.

"Oh, nothing. Pulled one too many all-nighters." Syndrome said, acting as if it was nothing.

"I'd always told you not to do that. Now you see why?" Mirage said, getting up. "But I need to get you back to our time." She started walking towards Syndrome, but he backed away.

"Oh no, I like this time, no one knows who I am. I'm a free man." Syndrome said. It was all true, he was a free man here. If he went back with her, the minute he appeared he'd be handcuffed and would never see the light of day again.

"It doesn't matter what you like, you're coming with me." Mirage said, walking towards Syndrome. He tried to run, but fell in the process. He still couldn't put any weight on his broken leg, so it started hurting again. He winced from the pain, but didn't brood on it long. Mirage was already making the portal to bring him back, something he refused to go in. He looked at his hands, thank god he had pulled on his gloves.

He took aim and shot, hitting Mirage in the stomach with a blast of Zero-point energy. She was stuck half-way finished making the portal. It quickly dissipated back into nothingness. Syndrome sighed. He was safe, for now.

"I'm not going back." He said to her, still laying on the floor gasping for air.

"Now what to do with you?" He asked himself, smiling. There was nowhere to put her that she couldn't get out of. He refused to kill her, what would he do with the body? There was only one thing to do with her.

"You're going to have to work for me again. I can't have you simply leave and come back with an army, now can I?" Syndrome said, pushing himself up into a sitting position with the hand he wasn't using. Mirage rolled her eyes, the only part of her body she could move while in the energy field. Syndrome slowly lowered her down to the floor, as he had raised her when he had zapped her. When she was on the floor, he got rid of the energy field, but didn't lower hand. He didn't trust her fully, he never fully would again. Not after what she had done.

"I'm not working for you again. I still haven't forgiven you for what happened in the containment cell." She said stubbornly.

"You'll work for me, and you know it." Syndrome said, smiling. "Now help me up." He raised his hand to her. She took pity on him and walked over and helped him pull himself up. She then passed him his crutches.

"So where do I sleep?" She asked, looking around at everything in the foyer.

"Choose a room, there's plenty." Syndrome laughed, glad to have her back with him, even if he couldn't trust her. It just felt right.

**Writer's Note:** Poof! It's over! No more until the next chapter! Second unneeded poof!

What am I doing now? (other than typing this) I'm listening to the Garth Brooks Double Live CD! Another woot to country! No! A double live woot!

Now onto the story. I thought it was a good idea to bring Mirage into this, it added a charecter to move around and do stuff. And the fact she was sent by Rick just gives me tons of ideas for stuff she can do in quiet opposition to Syndrome! Yay!


	10. Important Writers note and Preview

IMPORTANT WRITER'S NOTE:

Okay. Before you all go hyper on my head, I'm not gonna be able to update for a few weeks. I'm going away for a week, and then I'll need a little more time to finish the chapter I'm currently writing. But just to keep you a little happy I'll give you what I have on the next chapter, as a sort of preview for what's to come.

Please don't hate me for it being so short! I told you I need a little while to finish it!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Incredibles. Do not throw me in jail for being a fan, as that isn't against the wall.

**Dedication:** First ever Chapter dedication! Woot! I want to dedicate this chapter to Cristy Demonwrath for her wonderful review. I'm not saying I don't like everyone's review, but her's just kick-started me into finishing this chapter after writing nothing of it for so long. I think I've read your particular review five or more times. I have little forgotten details of childhood in here? I thought they were well-known, they are to me anyways... maybe that's because I used to live in a building where I was the oldest kid there...

Syndrome went through the boxes in the hallway. He had gotten the story out of Mirage, and she had apparently been here for a while and had been sending his people out to get her things. They had just ended up getting more than she wanted. Oh well, that just gave him more stuff to do which was never a bad thing. He got bored very easily, so he tried to keep busy constantly.

He smiled, remembering when he had first brought Mr. Incredible to Nomanisan. His plans had all been going the way he had wanted. Okay, maybe not completely. He hadn't expected the guy to survive his I-bomb. It hadn't been a problem though, that just gave him more stuff to do after he had saved the city. Even when the rest of Mr. Incredible's family had shown up things kept going his way, up until Mirage betrayed him. How could she have helped them? How could she have released them? That was the only way they could have gotten out after all. His force-racks were fool-proof, no one could escape from them.

He took a glass vase out of the box he was looking through. It had designs that only Mirage would like, so he put it in another box that he had emptied earlier and had decided to use to put stuff in that would go in Mirage's suite. Syndrome had been forced to give her a bathroom of her own. Not only had she demanded it, but Syndrome would have given it to her anyways. One day when they had still been on Nomanisan, he had taken the liberty of having one of the guards time how long she was in the shower, and it had taken her two hours to get in and out.

He heard someone walk up behind him, so he turned around to see Mirage. She was holding a Peanut Butter sandwich, and the box of walkie-talkies that Syndrome had given to Buddy. She raised her eyebrow questioningly, passing them to him.

"Who's are they?" She asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Mine." He said, placing them on the ground beside him as he sat back. He could truthfully say that, because technically they were.

"You never had any on Nomanisan." Mirage said, sitting down beside him.

"That doesn't mean anything." Syndrome said, shrugging as he stood up, with the help of Mirage and his crutches. He hated the fact that he needed help getting up, and couldn't wait until the cast was off his leg.

A phone started ringing, and Syndrome immediatly reached into his pocket. It wasn't there, and he tried to remember where he had thrown it.

"ahem." Mirage said, reaching into her pocket and pulling his cellphone out of it. Syndrome grabbed it.

"Hello?" He said into the phone, receiving only static. He stuffed it back in his pocket, confused. Then he sighed, remembering Mirage's other power, to make it seem like something was happening, when really nothing was. To create a mirage, hence her name.

"Stop it." He said, going to another box.


End file.
